


Falling apart

by Waddler



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Death, Gore, angste - Freeform, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waddler/pseuds/Waddler
Summary: She laughed bitterly and coughed on her own blood, and the last thing she saw before everything went black was her boss, looking even more broken than before.





	Falling apart

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I saw a fic that had like a lil' over 400 words, and it had a tag that said 'i hope people like this even if i took everyone and ruined them' and that translated into angste, and a thought popped into my head via my skeptical side that was like 'you can't shove that much angste into 400 words' and then my sadistic side comes shashin through the wall all HERE'S JOHNNY style and is like 'BITCH, YOU WANNA FUCKIGN BET' so now instead of sleeping like I wanted, I went and wrote this.

There was rubble and blood everywhere. There were corpses in varying states of dismemberment, and the entire building was up in flames. The heat was unbearable and scolding, blistering, and downright torturous. She could barley see through all the smoke, and the pain in her right side was unbearable. She looked around hastily, trying to find someone, anyone still alive.  She ran through the rubble, and wound up tripping on something that she couldn’t quite see. She grit her teeth to keep from screaming out at the sharp pain in her side that sent waves of burning pain lighting her nerve on fire radiating all throughout her body. Wincing, she at up to look at the culprit only for her breath to hitch. The light blue fur was unmistakable.  It was 505. His once soft and silky fur was now matted with drying blood, most likely his own. He was too sweet for it to be anyone else’s. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, his flower dead and wilted. With a sob she pushed herself up as realization hit. He was dead. 505 was dead. He had just been making cookies, and swatting at her hands earlier that day, and now, he was laying in Satan only knows what part of the mansion covered in blood and lacking any and all sense of the joyful life that had once graced his bright eyes.

She couldn’t look anymore. With another harsh sob, she turned and ran. She coughed and she cried and she sobbed and she ran until she saw a figure silhouetted in the smoke. One wearing a top hat. She made a mad dash in that direction, but slowed as she realized that he was holding something, or rather, someone. Someone who wasn’t breathing. Someone with the hanging scraps of a burned paper bag over their head. She slowed to a halt about a meter in front of the pair. Black hat looked up at her, tear stains running down his face, and she had never see her boss look so… broken.

His eye widened, and he tried to yell, but she couldn’t register what he was saying. All she could register was the pain in her back that went straight through her. She looked down, and saw something shiny sticking out of her stomach. She laughed bitterly and coughed on her own blood, and the last thing she saw before everything went black was her boss, looking even more broken than before.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah yes, there is a first for everything. I have done my first fluff, my first smutt, and now, my first full angste. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.


End file.
